Love at Second Serve

The cat appeared at precisely the moment Elena's iphone lit up with the notification—that particular vibration pattern she'd assigned to him. It had been three weeks since Daniel walked out, and still she checked. Every time. The cat, a ragged calico with one torn ear, watched her from the chain-link fence, as if judging her for this ritual she couldn't break.

"You're playing like shit," Marcus said from across the padel court, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Focus, El."

She shoved the phone deep in her bag, beside her towel and water bottle. "I'm focused."

But she wasn't. How could she be? The last message she'd received from Daniel had come during a padel match—his resignation from their marriage delivered via text while she was serving. Some part of her expected the same medium to deliver something else: an explanation, an apology, a sign that he still existed somewhere beyond the walls of his new apartment.

The cat leaped gracefully onto the court, padding toward the ball she'd just smashed into the fence. It batted at the yellow sphere, indifferent to the game's rules, to the score, to the fact that Elena and Marcus were supposed to be celebrating Marcus's divorce with what he called 'friendly competition.'

"Hey," Marcus called out. "Shoo."

The cat ignored him, instead rolling onto its back in a patch of sunlight, belly exposed, completely unbothered. Trusting, or perhaps just reckless.

"He used to love cats," Elena said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She hadn't spoken Daniel's name in weeks. "We were going to get one. After the wedding."

Marcus's expression softened. He walked to the net, leaning against it. "You know what I realized about cats?" he said. "They don't give a shit about your plans. They show up when they want, leave when they want. Love you on their terms."

Elena's phone buzzed again. This time, she didn't check.

The calico stretched, then sauntered toward her, rubbing against her shin. Purred like a small engine. Something in her chest loosened.

"Your serve," Marcus said, but gentler this time.

Elena bent down, scratched the cat behind its good ear. Its eyes closed, pure contentment. No expectations. No disappointment. Just this moment, this sun, this touch.

She straightened up, phone still buzzing in her bag, unheard. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, it is."